


Written in Blood

by ScarletAlice



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Disorder, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blood Curse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Semi Curse Child Compliant, Time Travel, kinda fix-it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-01-30 02:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21420604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletAlice/pseuds/ScarletAlice
Summary: Fate is such a fickle lady, just and unjust simultaneity. However, it is not behind Fate to see when she is wrong and where changes can be made, be it for better or for worse does not matter for her but simply that a chance would be given. Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy had never intended to find himself in Fate's radar, but as it happened, they're the perfect pawns in her game, willingly or not, the pieces had been set.Albus and Scorpius had thought that they were done with traveling through time after the nearly catastrophic results of their last trip, alas, Fate had decided her plans for them and she's not asking for permission.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> So, I had this idea in my head for quite some time now and kept on changing and editing what I wanted to do but I am finally sitting down to write it out and hopefully, it would make sense. It's a work in progress and I'm just going to post whenever I'm done with a chapter so it's probably not going to be the most regular posting, but that's what I have to offer.
> 
> Currently it's not Beta'd and while my English is quite good, it's still not my first language so feel free to point mistakes if you see them. 
> 
> I hope that you're going to enjoy this, leave comments if you do and constructive criticism is quite welcomed.

He was running, even though he wasn't sure what it was that he was running from.

It was like a feeling set deep in his bones, warning him that terrible things could happen if he were to get caught. A sense that a detention for being caught out after hours would be the least of his problems, not that he fancied to give McGonagall another reason to have him clean cauldrons or the underside of tables, but he knew that this would be much worse. So he ran, allowing his feet to lead the way as he glanced behind him, vaguely aware of the figure that seemed to have noticed him, now following him in a clear pursuit.

“Shite,” he cursed under his breath, quickly taking a turn and jumping onto the stairs just as they began to move. Hopefully it would buy him some time, enough to get back to the dungeons and slip into his common room. 

He was already at the first floor when his legs betrayed him, feet slipping from under him as he crashed into the ground, sliding until he hit his side on one of the walls. The boy hissed in pain, rubbing his left shoulder and doing his best to ignore the sting on his forearm or the metallic smell seeping into the fabric of his robes.

He really doesn’t have time to deal with this right now, he needed to move and fast.

It had taken him two, perhaps even three attempts to get back on his feet, the muscles of his legs protesting with every single step that he took. Hell, he really needed to start working out one of these days.

Pushing through the pain, he kept on moving, he wasn’t too far away now and he had hopefully already created enough distance between himself and whoever it was behind him. 

“Where do you think you’re going, Potter?” 

Or not.

He hissed as he felt a strong hand landing on his injured shoulder, squeezing it and forcing him to a stop. He had been so close.

It took him a minute to catch his breath and he could feel the annoyance radiating from the professor behind him. At least it was just a professor, he had expected something much worse. “Back to the common room, sir,” the innocence card had never worked for him, being a Potter nulled it out of existence but he was too air deprived at the moment to think of something better. 

“Are you now?” the voice practically spat, the hand squeezing his shoulder tighter as if knowing the boy was hurt. “Then why, pray tell, are you running in the opposite direction? Are you arrogant enough to think rules does not apply to you and that you can lie your way out of your misdeeds?”

Slightly confused, he twisted in the professor’s hold, breathing a sigh of relief when the hand had finally let him go. In his sixteen years of living, he had been called many things, arrogant had never been one of them.

He wasn’t sure what it was that had wanted to tell the professor, perhaps clarify that he was indeed heading in the right direction and that he hadn’t meant to be out so late at night. It didn’t matter though, as the words died in his throat and he found himself giving off the impression of a goldfish as he stared at the man in front of him.

Thin and tall, the man wore flowing black robes, his greasy hair framed his face and reached his shoulders, his lips twisted into a victorious smirk and his eyes were like endless tunnels. “Professor Snape,” the student gulped, this was bad.

“Yes, Mr. Potter. Who did you expect? One of Santa’s elves perhaps?” the man mocked, reaching to grab the back of the boy’s neck. “Now, why don’t we go to the Headmaster’s office, maybe you’d like to tell him what you’ve been doing running around school at the middle of the night.”

He wasn’t left with much of a choice but to follow Professor Snape, emerald green eyes fighting between looking at him and at every other direction, something that seemed to irritate the man greatly. 

They were not far from the Headmaster’s office when Snape finally snapped, “would you stop that?” he growled, suspecting the boy of having planned something, which wasn’t that far from the truth -- only the boy was currently trying to formulate a plan, rather than having done so already.

“I’m not doing anything,” he tried to protest, not that it did any help. For the rest of their very long and very stressful walk, neither said anything and he tried to keep his eyes away from Snape as much as possible.

“Pear drop,” Snape told the golden gargoyle, barely even waiting before he stepped into the stairs leading to the office, forcing the teenager to quickly follow, unaware of the mental argument he was having with himself.

The door hadn’t even fully opened when another voice echoed through the silent night. “Ah, Severus,” the old wizard said, his blue eyes sparkling from behind his half-moon spectacles. “I believe you have found Mr. Potter for us,” both professor and student stared at him surprised. “Now, my boy, why don’t you come and take a seat?” he said kindly.

The boy in question looked around with wide eyes, swallowing his nerves before moving to take a seat on one of the armchairs, unable to content his gasp when he noticed the blonde on the other armchair.

“Now, Severus, if you could please go and fetch Mr. Malfoy, it would be most helpful,” Dumbledore said. “I believe that once Minerva returns with Mr. Potter we would all have much to discuss.”

Snape looked at the headmaster in clear confusion, “Mr. Potter is already here,” he said, eyes narrowed at the dark haired boy.

Dumbledore simply smiled, “and so is Mr. Malfoy. It just so happens though, that they’re not the ones who are currently sleeping in their respective common room. Isn’t it right, Albus? Scorpius?”


	2. Chapter I

“Did Goyle ate your favourite quill thinking that it was candy, or are you just bitter for the sake of it?” came the familiar snarky tone and without looking, Draco could already tell who it belonged to.

Had his mood had been a little bit better, he might have bothered to come up with a snarky comment of his own, but as it was, Draco Malfoy was not in a good mood at the moment. “Sod off, Nott,” he said, not even bothering to look up from his plate. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone. 

Draco didn’t really have a reason to be in such a foul mood, in fact, since the beginning of his fifth year, he had been given more than enough reasons to gloat and mock his nemesis. Potter’s name being dragged through the mud usually had been doing wonders to make him feel better, but even watching the Gryffindor golden boy receive yet another detention from Professor Umbridge failed to make Draco smirk today.

He had woken up early, far earlier than he usually did and had not been able to get back to sleep, instead, Draco was left to twist and turn in his bed, trying to shake the feeling of dread that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Dark marks settled under his eyes by the time he forced himself out of bed and he had already snapped at a couple of second years before he had even stepped foot in the Great Hall.

Trying to avoid garnering any unwanted attention, Draco had remained quiet for the majority of the day, sticking with glaring at anyone who so much tried to talk to him or get in his personal space. The feeling which had woken him from his sleep had never left him, only growing stronger as the minutes ticked by.

The fact that it was also Tuesday and he had not received his schedule package from mother had done nothing to help his mood, but Draco tried to convince himself that he should not worry too much. After all, things had been rather hectic since  _ he _ returned.

Draco may enjoy the way Potter and Dumbledore were being called out as liars and delusional maniacs, but he knew the truth behind their words. He also knew the consequences of confirming it to anyone. 

Whatever feeling it was that had latched onto him, Draco hoped that it had nothing to do with the Dark Lord. Having only met him once was already more than he felt ready for. 

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought and he turned glaring eyes when he felt a hand, not at all comforting as it should have been, placed on his shoulder. 

“Dray?” Pansy’s voice was annoyingly sweet as she pushed herself closer to the blonde, using her free hand to wrap around his arm in what Draco was sure was meant to be a show of affection. Merlin, he could hardly stand her at times like this but there wasn’t much to do there, father had been most thrilled to hear that they were dating and Draco couldn’t bare disappointing him. “What’s going on?”

Draco was well aware of the ears that were listening, his housemates curious about what could have possibly gotten under the Ice Prince’s skin. Usually, he wouldn’t have minded too much, but at the same time, it wasn’t often that Draco couldn’t pinpoint the source of his foul mood. 

“Nothing,” he said, rather harshly as he pushed himself away from her and got up from the table. “Everything’s fine,” and he didn’t spare Pansy or anyone another word before he stormed out of the Great Hall, moving his hand through his gelled hair once he was in the hallway. It was unbecoming of him to behave like this, like a fearful and confused little child. He was Draco Malfoy, dammit, he controlled his feelings, not the other way around.

And still, he found himself shivering once more, a cold sensation spreading down his spine as he looked at the empty corridor around him. 

Something was about to happen, Draco was sure of it, now if only he could figure out what. 

With a huff, the Slytherin turned on his heel and marched down to the dungeons, hopefully, whatever it is that was going on would become known soon, or else this weight in his stomach would drag him too far down. 

Draco hated to think that he was going to be involved, but with this feeling in his gut, he thought that he might.

  
  


Draco wouldn’t consider it having been woken up in the middle of the night, his pitiful attempt at sleeping had ensured that. However, he was not at all happy to pull a cloak over his pajamas and follow his godfather and head of a house out of the Slytherin common room in the middle of the night. 

They were already halfway towards the Headmaster’s office and yet Severus continued to refuse answering any of the questions the blonde had been throwing his way. 

It did nothing to quell the nerves that had been bothering Draco throughout the day, if anything, it only made that feeling in his stomach intensify. 

At the very least Severus had the decency to ensure him that nothing had happened to either his mother or father, alas the general question of family emergency remained unanswered. Draco hated not knowing what was going on, being left in the dark in such a way when it was clear something major had happened. Something that would affect him.

It was as if everything that he had been dreading that day, the weight building up in his gut was leading up to this far too long (at least in his eyes) walk to the Headmaster’s office. 

Yet, no relief came from the knowledge that he would be getting an answer soon.

When the two Slytherins finally reached the door to Dumbledore’s office, Draco had nearly forgotten all of his manners and stormed in, alas Severus’ presence was enough to settle any rushness on his part.

“Come on in,” came the cheerful voice of the headmaster, a kind of giddies that should be considered a crime at this time of the night. Draco gave Severus one more long look, but the man had no intentions to reveal anything, forcing the blonde to step into the office with no knowledge of what was waiting for him inside. 

Draco could have probably come with at least a dozen possible scenarios, each more terrible than the previous one. After all, nothing good could come out of the day he had or being called into the Headmaster’s office at the middle of the night -- he wasn’t Harry Bloody Potter after all, he didn’t look for ways to cause trouble and be a hero. 

Still, as dramatic as Draco could be (and he was well aware of his superb dramatic tendencies) , never in his life would he have been able to guess  _ this _ .

Like a Grindylow out of the water, Draco stood frozen at the door way, pale silvery blue eyes staring at the boy seated on one of the large purple armchairs. For a moment, he wanted to call out foul play, someone must have used polyjuice to get him into some kind of trouble. However, the longer Draco looked at the boy, the more he realized that this couldn’t be polyjuice.

The boy was pale skin and define lines, the structures of his face almost identical to Draco’s own, but his lips were fuller and his eyes were a brilliant shade of blue with no hint of silver. His platinum hair was left to fall over his ears in soft waves, left to its natural state in a way Draco himself would never dare. He was so much like Draco himself, yet softer, something Draco would never be.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said, forcing Draco away from those blue eyes that were staring back at him, wide and perhaps even worried. “Please, take a seat, we have quite a lot to discuss.”

It was only when the old wizard pointed at another armchair that Draco took in his surroundings, and if he had been speechless before, that feeling only intensified.

Across from the table, two more armchairs were preoccupied, one by a very grouchy looking Potter, still in his pajamas and leaning forward with panic in his green eyes. And the other? Well, there was another Potter, in a more casual looking clothes and worry in his eyes. Draco found himself looking between the second Potter and the blonde boy, both looked so much like Harry and himself, yet there were clear differences.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” he demanded, jaw clenching tightly. 

“Draco, sit down,” Severus said, his face emotionless as his onyx eyes stared into Draco’s own. It was an order and as much as the Slytherin wanted to argue against it, he eventually obied, taking the empty seat but making it very clear that he was unhappy.

Dumbledore simply smiled at everyone, looking like a bigger fool in Draco’s eyes than he already was. “I know this may seem a little weird, but I am sure that we can all learn from this unexpected situation,” he began, his blue eyes twinkling. “Harry, Draco,” he said, making the Malfoy heir glare at the use of his first name. “Due to some unforeseen circumstances, we have a couple of guests, as you might have been able to tell already,” he gestured at the two other boys. 

“Guests? Professor this must be some kind of a trick!” Potter called out, his voice far too loud in Draco’s ear. “You can’t-”

“-Mr. Potter sit down,” Severus cut, his voice cold and sharp as Potter glared back at him.

“Harry, my boy, I know how this looks like, but trust me, neither of these boys means us any harm,” the headmaster said and despite himself, Draco huffed. Even he found the situation quite unlikely. “Earlier this evening,” he continued, once Potter sat back down. “Professor McGonagall came to me with a boy with a remarkable resemblance to Mr. Malfoy,” he said, nodding in Draco’s direction. “However, while it was easy to deduct the boy was indeed not Draco Malfoy, it was important to discover who exactly walks around the castle with the face of our students,” despite the weight of his words, his tone of voice did not lose the hint of excitement. “However, rather than discovering a trick, I’ve learned of a rather unusual occurrence, the boy may not be Draco, but he is indeed a Malfoy.”

“Excuse me?” Draco said, “what exactly are you suggesting?” He refused to believe his father would have had another child and not tell anyone about it. Such a disgrace could not befall the Malfoy family.

Dumbledore simply smiled at him and as Draco turned his eyes to this  _ relative _ of his, he couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable he seemed to be in this situation. “I am not saying this boy, Scorpius, is a sibling of yours, my boy. You see, those unusual circumstances include a little bit of time travel. These two boys, Scorpius and Albus,” he said, gesturing on the blonde and than on the second Potter, “seemed to have travelled twenty or so years back in time.”

Draco stared at Dumbledore and then turned his eyes to Scorpius, twenty or so years back in time. The old wizard must have truly lost his mind because it seemed to him as if he was suggesting that this was his son.

“It’s impossible to travel so many years back in time,” Draco could hear himself saying, unable to look away.

“Technically you just need to have the right time-turner,” came an unfamiliar voice and it took the Slytherin a moment to realize it came from the second Potter. “Not that we used one this time, this is purely accidental.”

“This time?” Potter asked, turning his gaze to the second one. At least he seemed to be having as much trouble believing this as Draco.

The second Potter just smiled, no, not smiled but smirked as he shrugged. “May have gave a time-turner a spin before.”

“ALBUS!” Draco’s head whipped to look at Scorpius, those bright blue eyes glaring at the Potter spawn. “This isn’t a joke, this time we’re in big trouble.”

“We?” Draco asked in disbelief, because somehow, that seemed to stick out the most.


End file.
